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The Queen of Her Destiny

Queen of Her Destiny

This meme popped up on my computer the other day: “One day she finally grasped that unexpected things were always going to happen in life. And with that, she realized the only control she had was how she chose to handle them. So, she made the decision to survive using courage, humor, and grace. She was the Queen of her own life and the choice was hers.”

It brought to mind a news feature I’d heard not long before: a discussion with a principal in a school full of students who have faced the kinds of challenges that might do most of us in. Unsurprisingly, some of those students are troubled. This wise principal takes those students in hand and tells them how sorry she is that they’ve had to deal with such horrible life circumstances.

Then she says, “I can’t do anything about that,” and goes on to challenge them to shift their focus from what has happened to them in the past—what they, too, can do nothing about. She tells them she’s there to help them figure out what they’re going to do about things now. And to stand alongside them to help them get where they want to go.

I think that’s so wise. I’ve seen far too many “Woe is me” people. Their obsession with the bad things that have come their way has paralyzed them to the point that they’re unable to make a single decision, to take one positive step forward.

I know it’s hard. I’m not here to suggest anything to the contrary. But what that principal says is true. What the meme says is true. Paying these words heed is the only way to crawl out of despair and into the future.

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7 thoughts on “The Queen of Her Destiny”

In addition to the strength my grandmother showed when losses affected her life, she also had to comfort others. Her father died in January, 1934. But a year earlier, in January, 1933, her mother-in-law and father-in-law both died–nine days apart. Also, when her son was stricken with polio in 1952 (and was paralyzed from the waist down), their second child was born two weeks after that. My grandmother gave up a new job she had only had for a month and went to Colorado to help them. She stayed there for sixteen months.

Reminds me of my great-grandmother, who raised three families, her own brood of six children, then five more when her brother and sister-in-law died within a week of each other from the flu epidemic, then two grandchildren after their mother died and their father and step-mother began abusing them. Life was tough in those days.

I was certainly reminded of this as I typed (transcribed?) my Grandmother’s journal and 14 diaries. She faced challenges with strength and grace, and found joy in “the little things”. Here is part of the description of the 2nd book: “It may be recalled from the first book that Marian Fleece’s life included much sadness. Her father “Docker” died in 1934; her husband Leslie died in 1935; her mother “Lena” died in 1937; her son Bill died in 1941; her son Jeffrey got polio in 1952; and her son-in-law Lawrence died in 1954. Yet through all this Marian remained a very positive person – she found joy in the “little things.” Those little things are recorded in this book.”

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